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starting to deserve this

November 27, 2013

My favorite book ever contains a passage in which the aged patriarch has committed a grave faux pas by stating loudly over a gracious supper table, in the presence of a man who cannot return to his home in Poland due to world war two political pressures, that ‘if one has a home one should stick to it.’ He is immediately scolded by both wife and son, who are shocked at his lack of feeling and ashamed by his want of worldliness. Refusing to back down, he defends himself further by listing off the great figures he has seen in each of his travels to countries other than his own, and winds up by saying ‘and then I got home to London and saw the first british bobbie and thanked my stars.’

This is how I feel whenever I go on trips.

I went to Seattle and I saw agreeable drunk navy ferry takers, I went to New York and saw a life sized Elmo, I went to Denver and saw more Broncos attire than even I am wont to admire, and then I got home and I saw the first hipster dude out jogging in tight ass old man slacks cut off short shorts, and I thanked my stars. I am home.

Denver was a fabulous time; but Denver was apallingly cold. I thought I had experienced cold before, but now I see that I was mistaken. I don’t believe I have used the word ‘frigid’ over often in my Portland based life, but now I know that every time I have used it I have used it in error. Portland does not know frigid. Portland is a beautiful buttercup of warmth and softness even when it is snowing.

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I do not know how they do this, but they make one thing quite clear to me: pansies are not to be trifled with, and pansy is not a strong enough name to describe myself in reference to the same cold these ones are experiencing.

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This is a cool old barn that was turned into some art spaces in downtown Loveland. We did not go in, but we did go and buy Priscilla some cat paraphernalia down the block.

The main thing I loved about Colorado was the sky. SO. MUCH. SKY.

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Image On the drive to the airport I spent about ten minutes staring at a spot just above the horizon that appeared to be circular and hovering. It looked immediately to me like a hot air balloon, but I have been disappointed before by those water towers that look like sperms, and so I held myself in reserve this time. Turns out: hot air balloon!

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My faith in the world is not completely restored by this, but I do resent those water towers a lot less.

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riding high on a wave of love

November 20, 2013

Yet another way in which this new office rules supreme: the cleaning lady tidies my desk. I didn’t even realize I was the kind of person who needs their desk tidied, until I walked in this morning and all of my papers and post-its were neatly stacked along the far side of my gleaming desk, uniform to the nth degree and completely devastated with regards to organization. I kind of need to go through them again anyhow so…three cheers for the cleaning lady.

In other news, it is sunny today which also apparently means that your finger flesh will freeze off your bones within ten seconds of hitting the outdoors. Scraping ice off your windshield with a cd cover does not help. Especially when Jason can scrape twice the amount of ice with his credit card, which doesn’t sound possible in terms of mass to ice coverage, and is simultaneously offensive to my cd skills and nothing short of a heart melting miracle to my finger bones.

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The guy who is hooking up our cable totally just saw me stand on my desk to take that picture.

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your wicked garden

November 19, 2013

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So daylight savings sure does suck. Every evening in so far I drive out of the parking garage into the night and think, ‘oh well that’s it then, time for a few quick episodes of tv in bed and then on to the rest of the righteous,’ and it is always jarring to remember that there are in fact at least six good usable hours left in the day. At least. It’s hard being productive at night when your body feels like it’s too dark to be upright and your brain feels like it’s been clearly running for ages already look it’s nighttime now let’s just watch seven episodes of South Park and eat Doritos. Oh, Doritos. I hate you because you’re beautiful.

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So from my window I can see an immense long line of emergency vehicle lights on the road that goes by the Convention Center/Rose Garden area…it started like ten minutes ago and it’s crawling like a parade and it used to just be cruisers but now it’s SUVs and ambulances and firetrucks oh my.

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Also now there is a helicopter.

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Is there a land war? Have our emergency service workers had it with the general populace and decided to emigrate elsewhere and leave us to deal with our own fires and asthma attacks and improper road safety practices? Is Obama here? Is it Daft Punk?!

I WANT TO KNOW.

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Update: sadness. 

 

spit infinity

November 14, 2013

My workplace moved offices last week, and the best thing about this is the parking garage. Not only do I have a garage door clicker, which I have coveted for my entire life and only owned once for like four months, the in ramp is at a nice 30 degree angle and every morning I pop into neutral and try to coast all the way to my parking spot. Is like very slow Tokyo Drift, except that drifting is not so much the point because my car cannot spontaneously regenerate from contact with concrete pillars at the end of the game. This is totally a great way to start the day. It is impossible to rip as many hairs out over mysteries within the general ledger or differences of opinion with the boss when you know that, having missed all three corner columns at full momentum, you nuzzled right up to the latter edge of your parking space this morning without hitting the gas once.

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